New York Scandal
by LTP-girl
Summary: Hyacinth is arrested for murder on a holiday in New York.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first KUA fic! I thought of this a while ago, and just had to get it written down. Hope y'all like :-D**

Disclaimer: I do not own _Keeping Up Appearances _or its characters, nor do I own _Law & Order_ and its characters.

New York Scandal

By LTP-girl

**NYPD, Manhattan County, 27****th**** Precinct.**

Lieutenant Van Buren watched sternly through the glass window of the interrogation room, as Detectives Lupo and Bernard continued to question their prime suspect. Attorneys Connie Rubirosa and Michael Cutter approached Van Buren from behind. After her thirty years on the job, she had to admit she had never encountered a suspect quit like this one.

"Morning counsellors," she greeted sardonically. "About time you were here to give the Queen Mother a good grilling."

A look of puzzlement spread across both their faces, the two prosecutors not understanding the Lieutenant's sharp comment.

Cutter slid his hands into his pants pockets. "So, who have we got, Lieutenant?" he inquired in his broad New England accent. He glanced over at the suspect, a brightly dressed woman on the other side of the glass. She was sitting next to a rather astute looking man, whom he recognised as defence attorney Marcus Woll, and who he assumed to be the lawyer acting as her defence counsel.

"A British woman by the name of Hyacinth Bucket," Van Buren replied. "She claims to be on vacation, or 'holiday', with her husband Richard, who we are in the process of contacting. She has had close association with the victim, Kendra Malone. Mrs Bucket reportedly purchased a set of fine-bone China mugs from her store located on the Upper East Side, and got angry with her over a wrong order. Witnesses reported Mrs Bucket near the Hudson River at 10:00pm, right after Ms Malone's body was dumped. Trust me Mr Cutter, this is our woman."

"So, you're telling us she murdered a small business owner over a set of crockery?" Cutter enquired in disbelief.

"That's right, Mr Cutter." Van Buren shrugged, not believing the absurdity of the whole situation herself. "Well, some tourists have been known to do the craziest things."

"We have motive, causation, and witnesses, what about a weapon?" he continued to question, assembling the facts of the case in his mind.

"She was arrested whilst shopping alone at a store on 5th Avenue. Detectives found an antique, Royal Dolton handled stake-knife, hidden in her girdle." she replied almost in a mocking tone, her voice elated in a posh English accent. "The knife was sent to forensics, where it was found that the blade contained traces of blood."

Rubirosa raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows, seeing the humour. "Hmm, classy," she shot back, equally amused.

"The blood on the knife tested positive for Ms Malone's DNA," Van Buren concluded. "This makes her our prime suspect."

"Hope she likes the accommodation at Riker's," Cutter commented.

Rubirosa stepped in front of her, cutting to the chase. "Can we speak with her?" she enquired, wanting to get the pre-arraignment procedurals over and done with.

Van Buren opened the door of the interrogation room.

"She's all yours, counsellors," she said, letting them through. "Brace yourselves."

Cutter and Rubirosa approached the metal table in the middle of the room, and took their seats opposite the accused. They noticed the contempt, and slight weariness, in both the detectives' expressions.

Bernard clapped Cutter on the shoulder as he headed towards the door. "We'll leave you to it, ma brother," he replied with a sigh of exasperation, Lupo following closely behind.

Both attorneys were startled by the detectives' eagerness to leave. Lupo and Bernard usually sat in on an interrogation of a suspect to coast their lawyer counterparts, but this time they seemingly couldn't be any more relieved to step out of the cold and dank green room.

Cutter exchanged an unyielding stare with the woman in front of him. "I'm Michael Cutter from the Manhattan District Attorney's Office, and this is my assistant, Connie Rubirosa," he introduced. "Now, Mrs Bucket, Lieutenant Van Buren has told us that..."

"It's _Bouquet_," she sniped arrogantly, cutting him off mid -sentence, as she pushed her nose up into the air.

Cutter scowled in confusion. "Excuse me, what?" He looked up at Woll for a hint of clarity.

"My client prefers her name to be pronounced _Bouquet_," he replied.

He rolled his eyes_. Dear god, up against a murder charge and you're worried about the pronunciation of your name? _He stared down at the personal file he had opened in front of him, humouring the disgruntled florally-dressed woman. "Hyacinth _Bucket_," he read out loud. "It's written down here in black and white, B-U-C-K-E-T." He glanced back up at her from the vanilla file. "This is America, sweet-hawrt, and there's no other way of pronouncing a name spelled like that here."

"IT'S _BOUQUET!_" Hyacinth shrieked, fed up with having to correct these people _at nauseum_. First it was the receptionist at the hotel, then it was the cab driver, and now it was the sanctimonious bearcats of New York City law enforcement. _Where do these people come from? Probably the same idiots who selfishly placed a fast-food restaurant at the end of my street back home in England. _

Rubirosa folded her arms, her fiery brown eyes full of contempt for Hyacinth, almost glaring. "We know you murdered Ms Malone. Her blood was found on the blade of that Royal Dolton knife the detectives found on your person," she said in a threatening tone. "So I'd start explaining myself if I were you. I'm sure you're familiar with _Midsummer Murders _and _The Bill_, you know how these cases can go. It's up to you."

Hyacinth's mouth dropped in response to the young ADA's approach, staring her up and down as she did so. "How dare you people accuse me of such a terrible act, an impeccable woman of social standing in her local community, and of high moral rectitude, with a son at university who wears pure silk pyjamas," she retorted, almost indignantly. "If my Sheridan were here he'd be appalled, having such volatiles persecuting his mummy. That exceptional boy would be rushing onto a plane to my assistance had he not had exams to study for. Well, that's the penalty of having a son who is so academically gifted."

Woll put his hand in front of her to cease her ranting. "Let me handle this, Mrs Bouquet," he said to her carefully, mindful of pronouncing her name correctly. "That is what you are paying me for." He turned towards Cutter and Rubirosa. "Let's get on with this, okay guys."

"That is a good idea." Cutter nodded, referring to Hyacinth's personal file for further details of the case. "Now, Mrs _Bucket_, where were you at ten-pm on Tuesday night?" he asked. He glanced up at her, waiting for a response.

"I was in my hotel room with my husband, Richard, naturally," she replied, her voice starting to sway, now shaken by the confrontation. She stared down at the papers Cutter had spread out in front of him, her eyes avoidant.

"Really, is that a fact?" His voice had become deadpan. "Because we have witnesses who say otherwise. We have witnesses who claim they saw a middle-aged woman walking alongside the Hudson River late at night, just after a body wrapped in sheets was reportedly thrown into the river."

Hyacinth raised her eyebrows in frustration at Cutter's insinuation.

"That could have been anyone," Woll protested.

Cutter stared down at the Hyacinth's personal file once again. "Middle-aged Caucasian woman dressed in pink and blue floral dress, and blue hat," he read. _What does this woman do all day? Go yachting with the Kennedy's? _"This report here also states that the woman was muttering to herself in a distinctly British accent." He closed the file, and glanced back up at her. "I'd say that fits your description perfectly, Mrs Bucket."

"And, Mrs Bucket, how do you explain the possession of a knife covered in blood, matching the victim's DNA?" Rubirosa chimed in, equally pretentious. "I'd say that these factors are more than just a coincidence."

"I told you it's _Bouquet!" _she retorted, unable to restrain from lashing out in annoyance.

Woll rubbed her arm with concern, in attempt to calm her down. "Listen Mr Cutter, my client is a respectable woman." He glanced over at Cutter and Rubirosa.

"There is nothing respectable about committing murder," Cutter shot back at him quickly, his expression severe. "If the jury pleads guilty, it'll be a long time before Mrs Bucket waters her English garden again. Given the circumstances at this stage, she's looking at twenty-to-life."

"What? Twenty years?" Hyacinth shrieked in horror. "What about my poor dear Sheridan, a mother locked away in a foreign prison. Oh, and my friends Elizabeth and Emmett, how they'll miss me. "She turned towards her legal council. "This is absolutely scandalous. These lower-class civil servants have no right in prosecuting me in this way!"

Cutter glanced back at Hyacinth. "Mrs Bucket, I am certain that you murdered Kendra Malone," he said darkly in an even and steady tone. "It is my job to prosecute you to the full extent of the law, and I will not withdraw the people's charges against you, until you can prove to me otherwise."

Hyacinth cowered away from him, tears beginning to prick the brims of her eyes.

Woll patted Hyacinth on the back to comfort her. "If you'd excuse me, I'd like a moment alone with my client," he requested.

Cutter and Rubirosa stood from their seats.

"Not a problem," Cutter replied, a slight contented smile forming on his lips. He was pleased with the evidence they had against Hyacinth so far, and so didn't see the need in interrogating her further. "We'll keep in touch."

Both attorneys made their exit from the interrogation room.

Cutter rested against the closed door on the other side of the room, letting out a long sigh of relief. "The woman is a whack-job!" he said with exasperation.

"Killing a woman over getting her order wrong, she must be," Rubirosa agreed. "Given her erratic state, Woll has a good chance of winning an insanity plea."

Mike glanced over and Van Buren standing beside him. "Contact Dr Olivet," he instructed. "I want a full psychiatric evaluation of Mrs Bucket before I decide where the charges apply."

"Right, Mr Cutter," she replied, making her way into the squad-room towards her office, Cutter and Rubirosa following closely behind.

"Oh, and book her for murder," Cutter added, before he and Rubirosa left the precinct. "Don't want her fleeting off to England, we have enough wanted fugitives in this city."

"I'll get started on the application as soon as we get back to the office," Rubirosa informed Cutter, as they entered the double doors of the squad-room.

At that instance, a balding middle-aged mad raced through the double doors of the squad-room in a mad panic, knocking Rubirosa onto the floor.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Cutter yelled out at him. He bent down to help Rubirosa up. "Oh god Connie, are you okay?"

She picked herself up and brushed herself off. "I-I'm fine Mike, don't worry," she replied, startled, turning around to get a glimpse of the man who had knocked her over.

The man stopped for a moment. "I-I'm sorry," the man apologised quickly, before rushing towards the service desk.

The two attorney's then left the precinct.

Once Richard had reached the service desk, he tapped the bell several times.

A young uniformed officer approached the desk. "Yes sir, how may I help you," she asked.

"I-I-It's my wife," he replied frantically between breaths. "A detective contacted me, and told me that my wife has been arrested."

"Okay, sir, what is your wife's name?" she enquired, taking a seat behind the computer monitor placed on the desk.

"Hyacinth Bucket," he replied.

She strolled down the list that appeared on the screen. "Augh, the Bucket Woman."

Van Buren made her way towards the man standing in front of the service desk. "Mr Bucket?" she asked.

He whirled around to face her. "Yes, I'm here for my wife."

She put her hand forward in a hand-shake. "I'm Lieutenant Anita Van Buren," she introduced herself. She guided him towards her office. "I'm going to have to ask you a few questions regarding your wife's whereabouts."

**What do you think so far? Feel free to comment:-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay, my exams are over for this year, so I can get back to my stories! But now I've got Christmas to prepare for. I've installed my second chapter for this fic, other characters from KUA make an appearance, so I hope y'all like it*^_^***

**60 Centre Street, the arraignment of Hyacinth Bucket.**

"Docket number 555 935, the state of New York vs. Hyacinth Bucket, murder in the first degree, one count," the bailiff read out to the court.

Judge Handley glanced over his reading glasses at a very dishevelled Hyacinth and her defence attorney. "How does your client plead, Mr Woll?" he enquired.

"Not guilty, your honour," he replied.

"The people request remand," Rubirosa informed the judge. "Ms Bucket was located in close proximity of the Hudson River at ten pm on Tuesday night, after the body of Keisha Malone was reportedly dumped in the river. Mrs Bucket ordered crockery from Ms Malone's gift shop, but was distressed to find that her order had been processed incorrectly, which gives her motive in committing this crime. The District Attorney's Office ordered that she undergo psychiatric evaluation prior to the arraignment. A court psychiatrist assessed the accused, and has diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder."

"_It's Bouquet, Ms Rubirosa!"_ Hyacinth yelled.

"Mrs Bucket, you direct yourself to me," Judge Handley ordered her.

Rubirosa turned to face the judge. "As your honour can see, Mrs Bucket is unable to control her emotions."

"Your honour, as I have preached before to the District Attorney's Office, my client, Mrs Bouquet, is a respectable woman," Woll contested.

"I'm sure the Queen of England would disagree," Ms Rubirosa argued. "Detectives have already located a weapon. This weapon was found on Mrs Bucket's person when she was arrested. It has also been found to contain traces of the victim's blood, and the blade of the weapon matches the victim's stab wounds."

"_My name is Bouquet! It is not Bucket! It has never been Bucket! And my name is of a French abstraction." _Hyacinth yelled, a little startled herself by her angered tone.

Judge Handley didn't take much notice of what Hyacinth had said, but found her outburst to be a nuisance nonetheless. He had a whole list of arraignments to get through by the afternoon, and the last thing he needed was a defendant wasting his time, something that unfortunately occurred too frequently. "Let your defence attorney speak for you, Mrs Bucket," he had advised sardonically, quite used to defendants lashing out in the courtroom.

"Your honour, my client is a tourist in our country. Why would she come to the US with the intent to kill someone she hardly knows," Woll protested.

"Oh I don't know, maybe a small business owner who got her order wrong made her lose her temper, and she wanted to get even," Rubirosa pointed out sarcastically. "Research has shown that people with borderline personalities have difficulty in repressing their feelings as well as their behaviour."

"Sarcasm doesn't score you any points, Councillor," Judge Handley warned her. He removed his reading glasses and glanced over at Rubirosa. He took a moment to consider her previous argument. "However, you have made a very convincing argument in regards to the state of mind of the accused, Ms Rubirosa," he reflected. "I think in my professional opinion, Mrs Bucket is a threat to the community, and in great need of psychiatric care. Therefore, I order Mrs Bucket to be remanded to a segregated psychiatric unit at Riker's Island Correctional facility until after the trial. Bail's set at two-hundred-thousand." And with that, he banged down his gavel, dismissing the two parties, and called the next case.

Richard watched frantically from the gallery, as two security guards handcuffed Hyacinth, and escorted her out of the courtroom.

He stood from his seat, and made his way quickly towards Rubirosa, who was making her way out through the door, briefcase in hand, on the other side of the room. He pushed through a crowd of people to reach her.

"Ms Rubirosa," he called out, his voice shaky.

She stopped in her tracks and whirled around to see who the person was trying to get her attention.

Richard made his way through the crowd, and finally caught up with her in the corridor outside the courtroom. "Ms Rubirosa, I-I-I'm Richard Bucket, Hyacinth Bucket's husband." He took a moment to catch his breath, and wiped the perspiration off his brow with a handkerchief.

"Ah, yes." She remembered him from when he had knocked her over at the precinct. "You know, for some reason, your wife is convinced that your name is pronounced _Bouquet_."

"Oh, no, no, no, I-i-it's most certainly Bucket," he assured her with a nervous smile, still sounding slightly agitated. "I-it has always been Bucket, until I met her."

She tilted her head and gave him a sympathetic glance. "Oh, of course." She had to admit, she found herself very amused by Hyacinth's antics.

"W-w-where are those security guards taking my wife?" He enquired with panic, referring to what he had witnessed in the courtroom.

"Your wife has been remanded to Riker's Island Correctional Facility, until the end of her trial," she told him quit diplomatically. "I expect they are transporting her there."

"Correctional facility? Does that mean the security guards are taking her to jail?"

"Yes, Mr Bucket." Her expression turned stern. "Your wife committed a very serious crime, and she must be reprimanded for it, under our jurisdiction."

"B-B-but I-I-I can vouch that there is nobody a-a-as respectable as my wife, I assure you," he tried to convince her.

"As you are close relation of the defendant, you will be subpoenaed to give a character reference under oath later on in the trial," she informed him. "You can vouch for her then."

"M-my wife doesn't belong in jail," Richard protested. "As you can see, she's in need of help."

Rubirosa was becoming very impatient with Richard's insistence, and Richard could sense that he had struck a nerve with the young lawyer. "She's been placed in a psychiatric unit of the correctional facility, Mr Bucket," she continued to badger, seeming annoyed. "She will receive all the help she needs there."

Richard stood there in silence, staring down at the floor. There was nothing more he could say, well, nothing more he could say without getting his throat slit by the NYPD and the Manhattan County District Attorney's Office, metaphorically speaking of course. And he didn't want to get on the wrong side of Rubirosa. He knew she was only doing her job. It was bad enough he bowled her over in his mad panic at the precinct after learning about Hyacinth's arrest.

Rubirosa noticed Richard's discouragement, and knew that he was only being protective of his wife. Her face softened slightly, but her tone remained diplomatic. "I'm sorry, Mr Bucket, it was the judge's ruling. I'll call you about a meeting at the District Attorney's Office regarding your subpoena," she told him, before making her way down the long corridor, her heels clicking as she walked. "I'll keep in touch about the District Attorney's sentence recommendation, also."

**Manhattan County District Attorney's Office**

After receiving a desperate call from Richard one evening, Onslow, Daisy, and Rose felt it their duty to fly to New York to provide their support for both Hyacinth and Richard. Richard had irately given them details of Hyacinth's arrest, his highly-strung tone exacerbating their worry for his emotional state.

The three of them stood in the elevator of the District Attorney's Office, waiting for it to reach the ninth floor, where they would greet Michael Cutter whom they had an appointment with.

"Oh, poor Hyacinth, locked away in an American prison, so dank and cold," Daisy fretted, feeling sympathy for her sister.

"You shouldn't feel so bad for Hyacinth?" Onslow snorted in disbelief. "She's the one who kicks you down for being a free spirit. You don't owe her anything, _we _don't owe her anything." Onslow wiped the ketchup on his hand leftover from lunch on his jacket. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, your Hyacinth is a psychopath."

"She's my sister," Daisy reminded him.

"I know. I'm married to the sister of a psychopath." He sighed with exasperation. "Oh well, I guess that's how nature goes."

Rose watched them quarrel amongst each other as she reflected on the love she left back home in England. Mr Pendallberry was his name, and Rose thought she had struck it lucky this time because he happened to be divorced.

"It was very kind of Violet to pay our airfares and accommodation, though," Daisy mentioned, grateful for her sisters' assistance. "We wouldn't have been able to afford it on our own."

"Yeah, too bad she and Bruce couldn't come with us," Onslow replied. "I told Bruce to break a leg with that new show he's doing. What role was he playing again, was it Cinderella?"

"One of the ugly sisters," Rose reminded him, stifling a laugh.

Daisy smiled to herself, looking forward to the time they would be spending in New York. "I know we're here to help out Richard and our Hyacinth, but it can't hurt to take a look at New York," Daisy said cheerfully. "There are some lovely things to see."

"And there's good grub," Onslow chimed in. "Them hotdogs we had earlier deserve a gold star."

Rose sighed thoughtfully, resting against the wall of the elevator. "I hear there are some wonderful men in New York."

Onslow and Daisy exchanged bemused glances, well aware of Rose's underlying intentions in joining them on the trip.

"Oh nice," Onslow retorted sarcastically. "I hope you're not going to bring your fellas into your room in the night. Some of us need our sleep, and those paper-thin walls are no help."

"I do feel guilty leaving Daddy on his own at the hotel, though," Daisy continued. "I hope he doesn't get up to too much trouble. It's bad enough he pinched that maid who changes our linens. I don't think we'll get any more mints on our pillows."

"Your father should have stayed at home in England," Onslow shot back. "New York can become a very dangerous place."

"It's not that bad, Onslow," Daisy contested. "Daddy will be perfectly safe. It's not likely he'll get shot."

_One can only dream_, Onslow thought silently to himself, his father-in-law being his second least favourite person after Hyacinth. "I don't mean the safety of your father. I mean the safety of the local New Yorkers, when they encounter your father."

"Don't be so rotten," Daisy retorted. "We couldn't keep him at home anyway, because her up the street refused to take care of him after he kissed her the last time. Besides, he's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Lifting up skirts, pointing a bayonet at innocent bystanders? You call that _not that bad?_ It's no wonder your Hyacinth landed in the trouble she's in," he retorted, sardonically rolling his eyes. "Your father is as senile as they come."

Onslow continued ranting. "And you're worried 'bout your Hyacinth? It's poor Dicky I feel sorry for, having paparazzi chasing him, detectives demanding everything he knows about Hyacinth, and having to return overpriced calls to Sheridan. Must be a nightmare." Onslow considered that, deep down, Richard would be relieved not having to put up with Hyacinth after her conviction.

Executive Assistant District Attorney, Michael Cutter, the lead prosecutor in Hyacinth's murder case, heard from the grapevine that her family were in New York, and jumped at the chance at having them helping him in his prosecution. He had contacted them that morning, arranging an appointment with them for that afternoon to discuss possible character references they would be giving in court.

The elevator stopped on the floor ninth floor, and they made their way down the broad corridor towards Cutter's office.

"I wonder what this Marcus Chopper wants with us, aye?" Onslow said, as they stood in front of the reception desk.

"His name's _Michael Cutter_." Daisy corrected. "He's the prosecutor in Hyacinth's trial. And he said something about us giving character references in court."

"Oooh, I wonder if he's a dishy prosecutor," said Rose, looking into the mirror of her compact, quickly perfecting her caked-on makeup.

"Don't start," Onslow warned her. "It's bad enough you smoked half my packet of fags, fretting over that Mr Pendallberry, while we waited at the airport."

"Speaking of the airport, I don't like how those customs officers manhandle you as you come through," Daisy complained.

"I don't mind that," Rose piped up excitedly. "I think I'll be travelling a lot more in the future."

Cutter's secretary made her way towards them. "Can I help ya folks?" she asked in her Dallas accent.

"Yeah love, we're here to see a Michael Cutter," Onslow replied, standing causally with his hands in his dishevelled jeans pockets.

"Sure," she replied with a friendly smile. "I'll tell him y'all arrived."

Cutter's secretary made her way towards his desk. "There are some British people to see you, Mr Cutter," she informed him.

He glanced up from the case-file he had been reading over. "Are they the Bucket woman's family?" he enquired, his tone bordering on concern. He considered that if they were anything like her, his integrity would be down the crapper. Prosecuting Hyacinth Bucket for murder was enough. He had spoken to a mild mannered woman by the name of Daisy, who said she was Hyacinth Bucket's sister, that morning, and was relieved to find that she was very agreeable. He had also briefly met her husband, Richard Bucket, and he seemed a rather together sort of person, despite his anxiety in regards to her arrest. But he wasn't certain what the rest of her family would be like.

"I believe they are," she replied. "They are her two sisters and brother-in-law."

Cutter closed the cover of the file on his desk, and stood from his chair. In his experience as a trial lawyer, he found that character references from a defendant's family were always helpful in swaying the jury's verdict. He placed his hands on his hips as he stood beside his desk. "Send them in," he instructed.

Cutter ushered Daisy, Onslow, and Rose through the door of his office.

"Afternoon," he greeted in his serious New Englander accent, closing the door behind them. "Now, you know you're all here to discuss Mrs Bucket's trial?" He showed them their seats in front of his desk.

"Yeah, that's right," Onslow answered, folding his arms as he leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable. "Although, I think you should be given a fair warning. If you should ever encounter her face to face, you should know that she pronounces her name _Bouquet_."

Cutter smiled in amusement, reflecting back on his unique encounter with her at the 27th precinct, the day of her arrest. "Yes, I know, I have met her."

"We don't want to say anything incriminating against Hyacinth in court. We were also considering that maybe you could give our Hyacinth some sort of deal, one involving a lighter sentence perhaps," Daisy piped up nervously, suddenly feeling intimidated by the stern lawyer standing before them. "I-i-it's just that we're Hyacinth's family, and family stick together." She forced an encouraging smile.

"I know you're Mrs Bucket's family... You poor things," he replied. "But look, I'm sorry. I can't just give Mrs Bucket a deal. It's my job to prosecute her to the full extent of the law."

Rose crossed her legs, and ran her hand down her exposed upper thigh. She gazed sultrily at Cutter, resting her arm on the back of her chair. "Oh, go on, Mr... um..."

"Cutter," he reminded her.

"Go on, Mr Cutter, I'm sure you've prosecuted worse criminals than our Hyacinth, surely. Besides, the only reason we've flown to New York is to merely give her moral support," Rose informed him, battering her eyelashes. _Ohhh, that Mr Cutter, he can habeas my corpus any day, _she thought silently to herself. She admired his sculptured torso that could be depicted beneath a clinging white shirt.

"Don't you start mauling him, our Rose," Daisy scolded her. "We're here to help our Hyacinth and Richard, not get you a date for tonight."

"I'm not mauling him," Rose shot back indignantly. "I'm just _persuading _him." She locked eyes with Cutter once again, her expression transforming into a sly smile.

Cutter felt her eyes on him and quickly turned to Daisy and Onslow. He cleared his throat in composure, embarrassed by Rose's advances. "Since you're family of the accused, it is almost mandatory that you each give a character reference," Cutter said. "It would be really helpful in swaying the jury."

"How does a character reference work, exactly?" Daisy enquired, sounding unsure. She had heard of the term 'character reference' before, on crime shows Onslow religiously watched, and in a romantic novel she had recently read. And then of course Cutter had mentioned it to her that morning when he spoke to her over the phone, but she still didn't understand entirely what it entailed

"You will swear under oath in court, and answer the questions I ask you. And you have to answer the questions truthfully, otherwise you'll be committing perjury," he explained, gesturing with his hands. "Then the defence will cross-examine you. Hyacinth's defence attorney will ask questions in attempt to impeach your testimonies, and to overthrow the prosecution's argument."

Three apprehensive faces stared back at him.

"But she's our Hyacinth," Rose protested. "She's family. And don't think we're going to testify against a family member for nothing." Her expression turned sultry again, as she stared him up and down. "Of course, we would expect something in exchange." Her voice was dark and seductive.

Cutter took a moment to consider their proposition. "Let me talk to the District Attorney first," he said, leaving his office. _If they think they can persuade me into giving her a deal, they've got another thing coming._

They heard muttering outside the door, before Cutter returned, with District Attorney Jack McCoy following closely behind.

"This is our District Attorney, Jack McCoy," Cutter introduced the older gentleman, as he shook hands with all three of them. "And he has an offer for all of you to think about, in exchange for your testimonies."

McCoy cleared his throat. "I am willing to offer a full expenses paid tour of New York, courtesy of the District Attorney's Office, while you spend your time here," he pronounced.

They all glanced at one another, and nodded in agreement. They seemed excited by the offer.

"Well, like Mr Cutter just said, the defence will also ask us questions that will contradict the prosecution," Daisy pointed out. "And I mean, it's something we're going to have to do anyway."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing Dais', you don't have to subpoena me in testifying against your Hyacinth, that's for sure," Onslow said. "It's about time someone taught her a thing or two about being human." He scratched under his armpit where a mosquito had bitten him.

"You know, I could do with a holiday," Rose agreed, considering Onslow's point of view. "So what do you say Daisy? Are you willing to testify against our Hyacinth in exchange for a trip of a lifetime?" She looked at her sister with pleading eyes, her hands clasped together anxiously, with the hope that she would say yes.

Daisy paused for a moment before she answered. "Oh, alright. If it will make the two of you happy," she relented half-heartedly. _The trip may even bring me and Onslow closer together, _she pondered to herself wistfully.

Onslow glanced up at McCoy. "You've sold us, Jackie boy," he spoke on behalf of the group. He stood from his chair. "By the way, squires, you mind directing me to the nearest bathroom. Only, them hotdogs I ate for lunch are starting to make a move."

There was a brief pause, both Cutter and McCoy surprised by the berley man's enquiry.

"Um, down the hall, first left," Cutter directed with a forced smile, trying to hide his discomfort.

"Tar," he replied thankfully, making his way towards the door.

Daisy followed him out of the office, Rose lingering behind, spraying herself with perfume.

"Oh, and Mr Cutter, if you're ever looking for... some company, here's my number," Rose handed him a card with a phone number written on it, as well as the address of her hotel, along with her room number. She flashed him a seductive smile, followed by a debauched wink.

Cutter took it from her, smiling only out of courtesy. He felt his cheeks burning, out of embarrassment more than anything else.

"Interesting group, aren't they?" McCoy mentioned quietly to Cutter, watching them make their way down the corridor towards the restrooms.

Cutter chuckled in amusement, agreeing with his boss. "Yeah, I'll say."

"Say, Mike, you haven't got that blonde's phone number have you?" McCoy asked him, referring to the card Rose had handed to him. "Because if you're not interested, I'll take her."

**A/N: Next chapter will contain a conversation between Hyacinth and Sheridan as she calls him from prison. It should bring a somewhat amusing element to the story. I appreciate the reviews I've received so far, so feedback is most welcome*^_^***

**What do you think? feel free to comment:-D**


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